


I'll Hold Your Flower Crown

by kitchen_sinks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, BAMF Phil, Badass, Comfort, Drunkenness, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pastel Dan, Pastel Dan and Punk Phil, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Punk Phil, Short Dan, Vomiting, badboy phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7699006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitchen_sinks/pseuds/kitchen_sinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small pastel!Dan gets drunk at a party and throws up all over punk!Phil and his leather jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Hold Your Flower Crown

Dan wasn’t quite sure how much he’d had to drink, but apparently it was enough for him to climb on the table and start dancing.  _Climb_  was a bit of an overstatement; it was more of a drunken crawl than anything else. He unsteadily put his feet on the table and began to move, his brain barely processing the hundreds of fellow teenagers hooting and cheering him on. The lights were bright and flashing in his eyes and suddenly the reverberating hum of the bass wasn’t as exhilarating as it was before; in fact, it was making him feel sick.

“YEAH DAN!” Someone screamed from across the room, eliciting a chorus of cheers, but Dan didn’t care about that anymore. He felt a tug of discomfort in his stomach and a wave of nausea passed over him, causing him to drop to his knees.  _Fuck_. Before his hazy brain could tell his stumbling legs to run, he felt the familiar bubbling of acid in his throat and promptly threw up over the edge of the table.

Right onto Phil Lester’s leather jacket.

***3 Hours Earlier***

“Do I have to come?” Dan whined, flopping onto PJ’s bed.

“For the last time, yes,” he said, hocking a magazine at Dan’s sprawled figure. “You’re coming with me to this dumb party whether you like it or not.”

Dan huffed a heavy sigh. It’s not that he didn’t  _want_  to go to a party, in fact, he was kind of excited for some of his first real teenage social interaction, it was just that-

“I don’t know a lot of people,” he said, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. “I’m just kind of nervous as to what they’ll think of me.”

“I think they’ll be more concerned with getting drunk and high than anything else,” PJ smirked, adjusting his fringe in the mirror. “Besides Dan, you’re the most adorable person ever. Who wouldn’t like you?”

Dan shrugged. He could think of a few people who would have a distaste for a boy in a lavender sweater, flower patterned creepers, and skinny jeans. For tonight though, he decided to put that aside. “Total dickheads I guess,” he said, managing a smile. “And PJ?”

“Yeah?”

Dan rifled through his bag, emerging with two different flower crowns that he held up to display. “Which one?”

PJ paused a moment, studying each one before saying, “The one with the white roses, definitely.”

Dan nodded in agreement, figuring the slightly purple tint in the white roses would highlight his lavender sweater perfectly. He carefully slid it into his meticulously straightened hair, before taking a deep breath to calm his jumping nerves. “Alright,” he said, “Let’s go.”

x

The moment Dan walked through the door and into the throng of dancing, sweaty high schoolers, he figured he had made a mistake. The air around him felt thick and weighty as they pushed their way into the crowd, and the hum of the bass sent little vibrations up and down his body. PJ had taken him by the sleeve as he guided them through the crowd, and Dan already felt sticky with heat and smoke. He saw familiar faces from school come and go, but they looked so much more- wild. Untamed in the thrashing pit of alcohol and teenage hormones. He cringed as he saw a very distraught girl crying and being comforted by her friend in the corner, and silently hoped he would be able to maintain his quiet dignity for the rest of the evening.

“-get us something to drink, be right back!” He heard over the raucous sound of music blaring from the speakers.

“What?” He looked up and saw PJ slipping through the crowd and elbowing his way into the kitchen, leaving Dan alone.  _Fuck_. He was alone, exposed, and defenseless. He stood there a moment, unsure of where to go and what to do, before he quickly unlocked his phone and typed out a message to Louise.

_Dan: Hey r u here yet? i’m alone and feeling v socially awkward_

He retreated to one of the couches in the corner of the room to people watch while he waited for a response, and hoped he didn’t look like a total twat sitting alone. He hated the sharp and bitter taste alcohol left in his mouth, but right now, he’d kill for a drink. Just enough to take the edge off his nerves; to act like a social lubricant so he could stop being so goddamned shy and awkward around other people. 

He felt his phone buzz in his hand and saw a message from Louise light up his screen.  _Thank God_. He quickly slid open his phone, praying she was already at the party.

_Louise: Just pulled in and i’m lost in the crowd too! I’ll try and find you, i’m by the main entrance_

Dan breathed a sigh of relief as he began to scan the crowd for Louise’s signature pink curls and bright clothing- she wouldn’t be hard to miss. He silently cursed himself for being so short, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the heads of kids chattering and drinking in the main room. Just as he was beginning to muscle his way back into the crowd, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again.

_Louise: Btw… Phil’s here ;)_

Oh God. Dan felt like his stomach had flipped in his chest and had an inexplicable urge to check his fringe in a mirror to make sure it looked okay. As if on cue, the crowd shifted and Dan caught a glimpse of a tattooed, blue-haired boy. He had a cheap cup in his hand and a smirk on his face and  _fuck_ \- he was wearing that sexy leather jacket of his that made Dan weak in the knees every time he saw it. Phil was running a hand through his blue fringe while he laughed about something with his friend, unconsciously licking over his snakebites and  _Jesus Christ he needed that drink now more than ever._

He didn’t know he was gawking until Louise was right behind him, tapping him on the arm and yelling right in his ear.

“DAN!” she cried. “I found you!” 

He shook his gaze away from Phil and back to Louise. “Oh yeah- hey! I’m glad you found me,” he said, snapping out of his stupor.

Louise glanced over where Dan was staring, giving him a knowing look and smirking a bit. “Come on,” she said, taking him by the hand. “Let’s find PJ and then you can continue drooling over your favorite bad boy.”

“Shut up,” he said, trying to keep the blush from creeping up his neck. 

Phil Lester wasn’t exactly what Dan would call a  _bad boy_ , as Louise had so fondly dubbed him. Phil Lester was the kind of boy that cut class to go smoke and drew his own remarkably good tattoo designs. He was the kind of boy with bruised and bloody knuckles, who got into fist fights in the hallway and drifted in and out of detention. He was the kind of boy notorious for his experience with men and women alike, because everyone wanted a piece of his porcelain skin dotted with ink and bits of metal. He stood in stark contrast with boys like Dan, who sat quietly and did their homework and drew their art on pads of paper instead of their skin. Whoever Phil Lester was, boys like him didn’t go for boys like Dan, so he tried not to think too much about it.

“PJ! There you are!” cried Louise when they’d finally made their way into the kitchen.

“Louise! Dan! I was just coming to find you guys,” he said over the clamor of the party. He passed Dan a cup full of sloshing amber liquid.

“You left Dan all alone!” she scolded him, plucking PJ’s cup out of his hand and taking a sip.

“Sorry Dan,” said PJ apologetically. “I thought it would only take a minute but I ran into Sophie and got talking for a little bit.” He gave him a sheepish grin. 

“See Dan, you’re not the only one getting distracted by their cute little crush,” Louise smirked, waggling her eyebrows at him over her plastic cup.

Now Dan could  _really_  feel his face heat up. “Shut up!” he said indignantly.

Louise and PJ exchanged a knowing look. “I’m going to go find some harder stuff,” announced Louise, passing PJ his cup back. “This stuff tastes like liquid grass and I want something that’ll _actually_  get me drunk. Be right back love,” she said as she left to go scour the kitchen.

Dan looked at his plastic cup, swishing the contents around for a moment before saying  _hey, what the hell_ , and taking a big swig.

x

Somehow, Dan was on the receiving end of a funnel full of… well he wasn’t quite sure what it was. All he knew was it tasted terrible and people were yelling at him to chug until he was ready to burst. The room was spinning really fast or wait… maybe that was just Louise spinning him round as they danced. Words were coming out of his mouth as he screamed along to a song blasting from the speakers and there was no thought behind them, no worry, no fear. He felt _alive_. And it was fucking awesome. He was dancing together with strangers as if they’d known each other for years, bumping hips and shrieking along to the beat, and for some reason, people loved it.

It was then that he got the bright idea to climb on the table.

His limbs moved almost of their own accord as he dragged himself onto the table, and for a moment, he could see everything. He laughed when he saw PJ on the couch, locking lips with some girl- was that Sophie? His vision was swimming back and forth too much to tell. Louise was on the floor, clapping along to the beat of a song and screaming something he couldn’t hear, and then, there  _he_  was. Dan Howell, the small, soft spoken, innocent little pastel boy, drunk off his ass and dancing like a stripper whose rent was due on top of a table. Below him, he saw a familiar mop of blueish hair that made his stomach quiver- surely out of excitement- because he was  _finally_  going to do it. After months of sneaking glances and being too shy to do anything but fantasize, he was opening his mouth to speak, but suddenly, couldn’t form the words. He dropped to his knees, the delicate quiver of butterflies in his stomach shifting into tight, hot pain in his lower abdomen and then-

Many people say that before you die, you feel a sense of inner peace, and acceptance of what’s to come. In Dan Howell’s experience, that was a load of bullshit. He was petrified. In the moments before Phil turned around, Dan could feel nothing but pure, unadulterated fear coursing through his entire body. Phil Lester was going to fucking kill him, because Phil Lester didn’t take shit from anyone, especially not small drunk boys who threw up all over his most prized possession. If Dan could run, he would have, but his head was reeling and he felt so sick he could only manage to slump onto the floor and hope he looked pathetic enough to not get a  _total_  beat-down. 

Almost as if he was in slow motion, Phil turned around, his back tensed and his hands drawing up into white-knuckle fists. Dan squinched his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable yell of fury or fist to the face, but nothing came. He tentatively opened his eyes and  _Jesus fucking Christ_  that was definitely Phil Lester squatting right next to him- but he looked… different. His eyes weren’t burning with the trademark “Lester death-glare” he gave to teachers, cops, or basically anyone who had pissed him off. Instead, his pale blue eyes were flashing with what looked almost like… concern? Maybe Dan was drunker than he’d originally thought.

Phil’s mouth was moving, but Dan couldn’t hear him over the roar of the music in the background. He repeated himself, but Dan could only stare at him blankly until he felt himself being hauled up by the arms and dragged into the hallway. He wondered vaguely if Phil was taking him outside to beat the shit out of him, but suddenly found himself stumbling into the wall next to the bathroom while Phil pounded on the door. 

“Hey! We were in line!” Dan processed someone saying. He was feeling so woozy he could hardly focus on his surroundings. Hell, he barely knew how he’d gotten into the hall in the first place.

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” Phil snarled, his blue eyes becoming sharp and dangerous. “Use it.”

The boy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it and slunk out of line. Just then, the bathroom door opened and Dan felt himself being rushed inside- just in time- as he collapsed onto the floor and began heaving into the toilet bowl. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phil shuck off his jacket onto the floor before kneeling down beside him. Phil’s hands were cold on his sweaty forehead. They smoothed the fringe out of his eyes and gently held his flower crown, making sure it didn’t slip off as he gagged. _Fuck_. And he thought those shots burned the first time around. He was trembling, slick with sweat, when he finally started to cry. Dan always cried when he threw up, and he hated it.

“Hey now,” Phil said softly, moving his hands to rub Dan’s back. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

Dan listened to the soft murmurs of reassurance from Phil as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the hot tears to go away. After a few minutes, he felt his shallow breaths even out, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

There’s nothing more instantly sobering than throwing up the entire contents of your stomach, and Dan was suddenly painfully aware of the situation he was in. He had just thrown up- literally  _all_  over the back of Phil Lester’s leather jacket. Somehow, he’d managed to stumble into the bathroom where he proceeded to cry and throw up some more, and for some reason- Phil wasn’t killing him? Phil Lester, the guy who said “fuck you” to a teacher and broke a kid’s nose for insulting him was here rubbing his back and consoling him on a bathroom floor. It was fucking bizarre.

Dan leaned back, curling into a ball beside the toilet. He couldn’t see Phil, but he could still feel the pressure of his fingertips on his back as he trembled against the cold tile floor.

“Why are you helping me?” He croaked. His voice was raw and scratchy, and it burned to talk.

He felt Phil’s hands stop and rest along his shoulder blades. “Because….” He paused a moment, searching for the right words to say. “I’ve seen you before. Around school I mean. You always struck me as… nice.”

Dan sucked in a shallow breath. Phil helped him because he thought he was nice? He must be joking. 

“Since when did you care about being nice?”

Phil let out a small laugh. “I’m  _not_  nice. It’s not like you threw up on me to piss me off, and I get that. My reputation can make exceptions for genuinely nice, cute boys like you.”

“But… but…” Dan sputtered in disbelief. Phil Lester. Phil  _fucking_  Lester thought he was nice and _cute_? Even  _after_  he threw up all over him? “But I ruined your jacket,” he winced, the memory flooding him with sickening embarrassment. “I am so, so sorry Phil, I-”

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Open up!” a deep male voice demanded. “Some of us have to take a piss too ya’ know!”

“Fuck off!” Phil snapped, before returning his attention back to Dan on the floor. He gently rolled Dan over to face him, and the younger boy cautiously looked up to see Phil’s bright blue eyes staring right at him.

He sighed. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’ve never seen you at one of these parties before, so you must not know how to handle your alcohol.” 

Dan just groaned in response, covering his face with his hands. He still felt sort of drunk. The ceiling was spinning around his head and making him dizzy, so he closed his eyes. 

They sat on the floor in silence for a few moments, until Phil’s voice broke through his sleepy haze. “Hey Dan? I think I should drive you home. Do you think you can you stand?” Apparently Phil Lester knew his name, too. 

Dan just grunted in response. He was afraid to sit up. The floor was keeping him grounded from the world reeling around him. “Mm not sure,” he mumbled. He tried to push himself up, but his arms felt like limp noodles.

“I guess not,” Phil said, gently pulling Dan into the sitting position. “Here, put your arms around my neck.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to carry you. You can’t walk, and clearly I don’t want you to have to spend the night on someone’s bathroom floor.”

Ordinarily, Dan would have protested, but he figured that since he was a tiny 5’5 in comparison to Phil’s well-muscled 6’2, it would be okay. That, and the fact that he honestly didn’t think he could walk without falling or getting sick all over again. He hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck, and felt himself being lifted off the ground. Phil grunted a moment, standing up and adjusting Dan in his arms.

“Who were you here with? Can you text them and let them know you’re with me and I’m taking you home?”

“Louise and PJ,” he said, adjusting his grip around Phil’s neck to reach into his pocket for his phone. Phil waited patiently while his uncoordinated fingers typed out a message to Louise and PJ, practically unintelligible, but it would do for the time being.

_Dan: hey im getting s ride home frm phil. im ok an d iilyl talk to u tomorrow_

“Okay?” Phil asked. The cheap bathroom lighting was reflecting off his nose and lip rings and illuminating his blue hair. He looked ridiculously beautiful. Somehow, even in the shitty fluorescent lighting he managed to look beautiful. Dan hoped he didn’t look as disgusting as he felt, but knew he probably did.

“I’m okay,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Phil just nodded and secured his grip around Dan’s small frame, before making his way to the door.

 _Breathe, just breathe_ , Dan told himself, willing his jumpy stomach to settle down again. When they opened the door, they were flush with the heavy beat of music from the main room, and it was almost too much for Dan’s senses. He buried his face in Phil’s chest and tried to focus on that. The feel of his black T-shirt against his cheek. The faint smell that lingered on his clothes, like soap and pine needles. The soft and rhythmic beat of his heart that Dan could feel pressed against him. Phil was so gentle, he didn’t even know they were moving until he was being buckled into the passenger seat of Phil’s car. 

“Are you okay to drive?” Dan asked sleepily as Phil started up the engine.

“Yeah, I don’t really drink,” he said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out into the open road. “I mean I do, but not a lot.”

“Me too,” Dan glanced at him lazily and smiled. Phil just laughed. 

They drove in silence for a little while. After Dan gave Phil his address he began to sort of slip in and out of consciousness, and Phil was careful to drive slowly and avoid the bumps in the road. When they pulled into Dan’s driveway, Phil opened the passenger door and scooped Dan up again.

“Back door’s unlocked,” he mumbled sleepily. He silently thanked God that his parents were out of town so they didn’t have to witness this.

Phil fumbled with the door handle for a bit before he was able to push into the house, nearly tripping over the threshold and dropping Dan. His muscles were starting to burn as he made his way down the dark hallway, until he finally found Dan’s door and set him down on the bed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Phil asked, pulling Dan’s blanket up around his shoulders and tucking him in like a little pastel burrito. He rolled Dan onto his side and put a pillow under his head, just in case he had to throw up again.

“M’okay,” he mumbled beneath his blanket. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you- for everything. You’re really pretty and soft and I know you don’t think so but you’re really sweet and-” He wasn’t sure if he was just exhausted, still a little drunk, or maybe both, but either way his filter had been completely removed. He gave Phil a sleepy smile before closing his eyes. “-and I like you a lot.”

Phil smiled to himself and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Dan’s forehead. “Goodnight Dan,” he said, easing himself off the bed and creeping out of the room. He paused at the doorway, taking one final glance at Dan’s already-sleeping form before quietly closing the door.

x

When Dan woke up the next morning, his head was throbbing. Cracks of sunlight peeked through his window, and he vaguely wondered what time it was. He reached over towards his nightstand blindly, feeling for his phone, but his fingers bumped into a smooth glass surface instead. He leaned over, squinting, and saw a tall glass of water, two Advils, and a slip of paper folded up underneath the glass.

He downed the water and the Advil. His mouth felt like sandpaper and tasted absolutely disgusting. He sloshed the water around and it occurred to him he hadn’t brushed his teeth after he threw up last night. Gross.

He rubbed his bleary eyes before sitting up in bed, picking up the scrap of paper that was left on his bedside table. As he unfolded it, his heart pounded with the realization of what it was.

_Dan-_

_Don’t think you’re getting off so easy. You still owe me one leather jacket. Give me a call when you wake up and we can talk business_

_-Phil xo_

Underneath was a messily scrawled phone number, and Dan just stared at it in disbelief. He slowly broke into a grin and climbed out of bed to search for his phone. Somehow, he didn’t think repaying Phil would be that much of a chore at all. In fact, he was going to like it a lot.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow danhowells-movingcastle on tumblr for a free flower crown


End file.
